Seeing Is Not Always Believing
by MistressTuki
Summary: With the battle won and the first spirit stone in hand Lion-o is left bewildered and betrayed. In his confusion the young king stumbles into another world were nothing is as it seems and the unlikeliest of friends and enemies await him. Will Lion-o be able to return to his world, more importantly does he want to? Lion-O/OCheshire. Old names, new characters crossover just incase.


**Prologue**

"_Now, now settle down." A voice, a wonderful voice cooed, almost sung as tiny paws batted for a tail long and banded. Paws, warm and soft stilled the playful paws, cradling them between their fingers, dwarfing them in their size, sharing the same stripes. "It's time to rest; we have much to do you and me." A soft cooing, so small and gentle bubbled from pale lips as eyes of impossible green young and wide looked up to a matching pair smiling down. _

_The cooing continued as the small paws wiggled free and reached for aged whiskers. A humored laugh, prickly and yet lyrical hummed and shook under a small frame big paws taking hold of the small ones once again. "I know you want to play, little one. But now is the time for sleep." Pale lips opened, mewling in dispute before with an innocent yawn. "See?" The aged whiskers lifted in a grin unmistakable, teeth sharp and lunar white. Long arms banded in deep indigo and furred curled around the smaller body of paler complexion, a small tail of white and mauve curled around his wrist, so small she was as she curled contently in his cradling embrace. Yawning once more, showing small fangs just beginning to form. _

"_We always have tomorrow, little one. We'll chase the rabbit that runs like his watch. We'll laugh and drink tea with the hatter and crazy hare. We'll terrorize the mouse in their teapot and tease the scarlet queen. We will do this again and again to your heart's content, for as long as you want." The tiny bundle was lulled into a soft purr still weak and new, a small grin that would grow as she would grow appeared as the last reserves to play were crumbling. "Over and over again, until you are big enough to play on your own and when that time comes." He coddled her closely, she mewed welcoming the warmth. "You'll have an Alice of your own to play games and sing songs. Won't that be fun?" She yawned, mewling tiredly as her eyes shrank to heavy slits._

"_Ah, but listen to me prattle. It's time for a rhyme isn't it? Before you go to sleep?" he received no answer, nor did he need one. Not from her. Gently rocking the little cub Cheshire hummed a gentle tune before carrying a verse. "`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wabe:__All mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe." The Cheshire cub cooed and mewed, barely a tot but by a whisker no stranger to his rhymes. "Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!__Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun __the frumious Bandersnatch!" She hissed and growled, still too young for words. Cheshire chuckled bouncing her lightly._

"_He took his vorpal sword in hand: Long time the manxome foe he sought -So rested he by the Tumtum tree, and stood awhile in thought." He hummed, quite softly, as the cub head began to nod the weight of her head too heavy for the somnolent kitten. "And, as in uffish thought he stood, the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,__came whiffling through the tulgey wood, and burbled as it came!"_

"_One, two! One, two! And through and through the vorpal blade went snicker-snack!__He left it dead, and with its head, he went galumphing back." Cheshire hummed softer now, as his little Cheshire cub reached the threshold of sleep. The second verse was barely a whisper curling at the center of the tree. "And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?__Come to my arms, my beamish boy!__O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!' He chortled in his joy."_

_He yawned, his tail lashing lazily over the branches wrapping himself around the small cub as she slept peacefully. __"`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wabe:__All mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe." Feeling his own sleep coming he nestled comfortably into his tree holding his youngling. She was so small now, barely the beginning of a dream. A thought just beginning to bloom. And so pale, a Cheshire had never been so white. Not he, nor the Cheshire before him, nor the Cheshire before him. Then again, no Cheshire carried the same shade. Similar maybe, but never the same, like snowflakes brightly colored snowflakes. Perhaps this new Cheshire so innocently white between her stripes was the mark for brighter times ahead._

_A new Cheshire, it was almost bittersweet. _

_Soon she would take his place. Soon she would wear his name. Soon she would be The Cheshire Cat and he would be a memory. But for now she was his and he would care for her. For as long as he could he would take care of her; for she is him and he is her, in a way, but not quite, for he is he and she is she and they are they. They were Cheshire and yet not the same. _

_Cheshire yawned again finally sinking into slumber._

_For now they would sleep and dream of cards and tea and dodos._

_It could wait until tomorrow._

_Tonight it was just a Cheshire and his cub sleeping in their tree purring as they chased the phantasms and fairies of their dreams with smoking caterpillars and silly twins and the walrus and carpenter with their empty bellies._

_Yes, it would all be there tomorrow._

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_**That's right folks.**  
_

_**I'm throwing my hat into the ring. I've been sitting on this idea for a while now and have finally decided to act. hopefully I'll have some chapter's up sooner rather than later.**_

_**Reviews are crucial, ideas are optional.**_

_**please and thank you.**_


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